


Tick Tock

by kaiwuff



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Compliant (?), M/M, Slow Burn, pregame, pregame au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiwuff/pseuds/kaiwuff
Summary: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.Each passing moment felt like an eternity to Ouma.Especially the moments spent away from his childhood friend.When he spots a familiar albino while coming home from school one day, he decides to finally take a chance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i was planning on just making this a really long one shot, but if i don’t post part of what i have now i don’t think i’ll be motivated enough to continue :’D

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

Ten seconds. It was 2:47, plus 50 seconds now.

In reality, there was no audible click from the familiar, black, industrial-grade clock hanging on the wall of Ouma’s classroom. Each second merely sounded in the teen’s mind as the time passed, slowly, slowly, until the minute hand moved forward by six degrees.

The mauve-haired boy let out a sigh as time seemed to drag on forever, and the droning voice of his teacher began to blend in with the quiet chatter of the two girls sitting to his left, along with the stifled laughter of the group of rambunctious boys behind him, and suddenly his eyelids felt heavy.

_ Letting my eyes rest for ten seconds can’t hurt. _ He reasoned internally, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand as he pretended to pay attention to what the teacher was saying, allowing his eyes to close for just a bit longer than a blink…

“Don’t forget to do your homework tonight, the test will be next time at the start of class.” The teacher announced loudly, startling Ouma out of his daze.

He brought his right hand up to rub at his eyes, trying to hold back a yawn as he looked at the time. 3:15, plus 16 seconds. Perhaps he’d closed his eyes for a bit more than ten seconds.

Ouma got up wearily, making sure to collect his belongings and put them somewhat neatly into his bag. He kept his head down as he walked past his peers, occasionally catching a dirty glare from one of them as he passed. It seemed they still hadn’t lived down the ice prank from last week.

It wasn’t  _ his _ fault if his classmates didn’t have a sense of humor. All he wanted to do was ease everyone’s nerves before a test, and he’d taken care to be stealthy and pass unnoticed when he took the teacher’s supplies and froze them all in blocks of ice.

He thought his class would get a laugh out of that, but instead, the teacher had punished them all and taken points off of the test. Ouch.

The shame and embarrassment he felt burning his skin had hurt almost as badly as the punch that had followed after school that day, when his peers found out he was responsible.

Ouma tried to shake the thoughts from his head, pressing onwards despite the occasional glare, or the name calling.

He reached the school gates fairly quickly, adjusting his bag on his back slightly in order to get a tighter hold on it.

“Ouma-kun! You’re out!” A voice called, drawing the attention of a few people besides the dark-haired teen.

For a moment, Ouma half expected to see an angry peer storming towards him, only to feel a wave of relief as he spotted his friend, Saihara Shuichi.

“Oh, hello, Saihara-kun.” Ouma offered him a smile, which felt a bit strained on his tired face. “Did you get out early again today?”

“Mhm. Hey, did you see the trailer for the new  _ Danganronpa _ ?” Saihara seemed to light up as he mentioned this, leaning close to his shorter friend.

“I did. I watched it last night.” Ouma nodded, an excited tingle going up his spine. “I’m so glad they’re doing a new one. It feels like all that Team Danganronpa’s only been broadcasting reruns of  _ Trigger Happy Havoc  _ and  _ Goodbye Despair _ .” He stated, a smile crossing his face. “I wish we had gotten in…”

“We’ll have better luck next time.” Saihara promised, turning around and setting their pace at a leisurely walk, away from Teitodaiteito High School. “I hope we get selected together, imagine how much fun it would be!”

Ouma only hummed in response, walking at his friend’s side as they headed to their neighborhood.  _ I wish I could be picked for something as incredible as that.  _ He thought wistfully.  _ Being trapped in a murder mystery simulation sounds so much more interesting than math homework. _

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

Ouma was about to say something to break the silence, until the raven-haired boy next to him suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling his black sleeve up.

“Hey, what are you-?!”

“Ouma-kun, your hand is bruising! H-Here, let’s run to the convenience store to get an ice pack before we go home-“ Saihara pleaded, taking his friend’s uninjured hand to pull him towards the line of shops to their right, just south of where they lived.

“Saihara-kun, my hand is okay, I don’t need any ice,” Ouma scowled as he remembered the reason he had the bruise in the first place, “besides, I have an ice pack at home. It’s not like it’s urgent.”

“But that looks pretty painful.” Saihara winced as he glanced back at his friend’s hand, practically dragging him along towards the convenience store anyway. “What happened?”

“Some jerk decided to slam the door to the supply closet while I was using it,” the shorter teen grumbled, allowing himself to be led by his friend, “he said I better go get some more ice.”

The raven-haired teen stopped in his place, turning back to shoot Ouma a concerned look. “Ice? Was this about the prank you pulled last week?”

“I guess so. I don’t know what else it could’ve been.”

“Ouma-kun, as much as I love your humor, you need to stop pulling these pranks of yours; they always end with you getting beaten!” He bit his lower lip, looking nervously from side to side, as if he expected a bully to jump out at any time now.

“I can’t stop, you know that.” Ouma protested, pulling his hand away in order to cross his arms. “Pranking is-“

“‘What makes you unique’, I know, Ouma. You’ve told me that so many times before,” Saihara frowned, halting in front of the convenience store in order to face his friend. “but this needs to stop! You can’t keep clinging to the words of a 12 year old to define your personality-”

“You don’t know that.” Ouma protested, narrowing his eyes, and knitting his brows together. “Kiibo-chan told me-”

“Ouma-kun, it doesn’t matter what your childhood friend told you then; what matters is that you keep yourself safe now!” Saihara objected, lifting his hat a bit to look his friend in the eye. “Next time you get beat up like that, I’m telling your mother.”

“Now you’re trying to ruin my fun, too.” Ouma scowled again, refusing to meet Saihara’s gaze. “At least  _ he _ thought I was funny.”

“You  _ know _ I think you’re funny, Ouma-kun, you just mess with the wrong people!” Saihara’s voice was more shrill than usual. He grabbed his friend’s uninjured hand again, pulling him towards the door as Ouma tried to resist with everything he had. “We’re… Going to… get you that ice pack!”

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

Ten seconds they spent resisting each other.

Ouma was about to open his mouth to hurl some offhand remark about Saihara’s strength, when the store’s door swung open behind the latter, knocking them both down to the cement sidewalk below.

The mauve-haired boy let out a yelp as he landed on his rear, wincing in pain as his injured left hand came into contact with the cement to brace himself.

“Hey! Watch it!” Saihara didn’t seem as phased, scrambling to his feet to address the newcomer.

“Ah. My apologies.” The voice of the offender held almost no emotion, even as Saihara took an angry step towards them. “You shouldn’t have been standing in front of the door.”

“You’re supposed to look before you open it!” The raven-haired student hissed, glancing back at his friend, who was still on the ground. “Ouma-kun, are you alright?”

“Aside from my hand being on fire, sure.” Ouma piped up sarcastically, shooting a glare at the two standing figures. “Now I  _ do _ want that ice pack. Wanna get it for me, Saihara- _ chan _ ?” He asked, his tone dripping with annoyance as he struggled to get to his knees.

“Ah- Right. I’ll be back in a minute, then.” His friend promised, rushing in through the door that had just knocked them both over; small bells rang inside, and then were silent.

“Do you need help up?”

“Gee, thanks, mister.” Ouma let out a sigh, finally letting the sarcastic persona drop. “Sorry. Today hasn’t really been my day.”

“Nor mine.” The white-haired stranger shook his head, his face obscured by his cap. “Perhaps I can lend you some assistance, though. I have a hot pack you could use on the bruise.” He pointed to Ouma’s hand with a gloved finger. A shudder went down his spine.

Something about this boy was familiar. Oh so familiar.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Ti- _

Before the silence could go on for too long, Ouma found his voice again. “Ah- Sure.” He nodded, giving the stranger his permission.

The other boy dug around in his grocery bag for a few moments, before producing a hot pack, handing it to him. “That should reduce the pain until you can get an ice pack on it,” he explained, tucking the grocery bag away in his backpack. “Make sure to avoid standing in front of doors in the future.”

Ouma immediately started crinkling the hot pack, nodding in understanding. “Alright then, …?” He trailed off, expecting some kind of name from the other. 

“Iidabashi. Iidabashi Kiibo.”

And his blood ran cold.

_ Kiibo _ ? The white-haired, round-eyed Kiibo that he’d known from age 5 to 12? The one who would invite him over to play for as long as they could, until his father tired of the two? His childhood friend who had somehow managed to wipe himself from the world without a trace or even a ‘goodbye’? The Kiibo who Ouma had been raking over his brain for; struggling to remember him when he began to question his very existence?

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick Tock Tick Tock TickTockTickTockTickTockTickTo- _

“Is something wrong? The hot pack won’t get very warm like that.” The white-haired boy pointed out, gesturing to the pack that now lay motionless in Ouma’s right hand.

“Kiibo? Really, Kiibo?” Ouma repeated dumbfoundedly, unable to do anything but blink in shock.

“Is… There a problem?”

“It’s me, Ouma.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, Ouma-kun.”

“No, I mean it’s  _ me _ \- Don’t you remember me?”

“... Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Now Ouma was trapped in his own thoughts. He could see Kiibo- Iidabashi? No _ , Kiibo’s _ lips moving as he spoke, but nothing was registering in his mind. Just the throbbing pain in his left hand; the dull, barely-there heat in his right; and the quiet, almost unnoticeable jingling of bells as the door opened again.

And suddenly everything made sound at once.

_ Tick. _

“Ouma-kun? Are you alright?”

_ Tock. _

Saihara’s head came back into view. “I got your ice-pack, Ouma-kun-“

_ Tick. _

“Ah, perhaps I should get going, since your friend’s back-”

_ Tock. _

“ _ No! _ ” Ouma yelled, terrified and upset and confused, all at once. “Ah- I-I mean, c-could you… W-Would you be able to give me your number?” He blurted out, startling all three of them.

“That’s bold!” Saihara whispered, a look of awe on his face.

“N-Not like that! You… You see… I just moved here from out of town…” Ouma mumbled, silently begging Saihara to stay silent for once. “I’m having a bit of a tough time making friends.”

“Ah. I… suppose I can’t think of any reason not to.” Kiibo shrugged, before suddenly taking the heat pack from Ouma, scribbling on it with a pen. “There. Please feel free to text, however, I am not available for calls.” He bowed slightly, handing the heat pack back to Ouma. “I must get home now, it was nice to meet you both.” And with that, the white-haired boy left in a hurry, disappearing around a corner.

“That was strange. He didn’t even ask me for my name.” Saihara huffed, though Ouma barely heard him.

He mulled it over for a moment. He’d never been able to remember his friend’s last name, but there was no doubt in his mind.  _ Kiibo. It really is him. There’s no way someone has the same appearance  _ and _ the same first name to boot. _ The mauve-haired boy’s heart seemed to soar when he realized that this meant he’d been reunited with his childhood friend, but it crashed and burned when he remembered what the other had said.

“ _ ... Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” _

“Ouma-kun? Are you listening? Why did you lie to that guy?” A hand was waved in front of his face, and the shorter teen swatted it out of the way with his right hand.

“Not now, Saihara.” He snapped, still mulling over the encounter.

“Ouma-kun? What’s wrong?” The raven-haired boy asked, a look of concern suddenly crossing his face. “That guy didn’t do anything funny with you while I was in the store, right?”

“Of course he didn’t! He would never!” Ouma immediately became defensive, memories of warm summer days and melted chocolate running through his mind.

“How can you be so sure?” Saihara persisted.

“Because that was Kiibo!”

“You mean your childhood friend?”

“Yes!” Ouma groaned in exasperation, looking down at the hot pack with the phone number on it. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t know me!”

“Maybe he’s playing a prank on you? You always tell me he loved your pranks.” He reminded him, trying to catch his friend’s violet eyes as they stared after the corner that Kiibo had disappeared around.

“No. Kiibo loved watching me pull pranks on other people, but he never did it himself. His father was too strict for that.” Ouma’s eyes seemed to fixate on a point in the distance, even though he willed himself to look away, even if it was only for a moment.

“So then what’s going on? Maybe he just forgot?” Saihara offered; however, Ouma brushed off the notion.

“There’s no way he forgot, we lost contact at 13. He couldn’t have forgotten me in four years- Not when we were- When… we were…”

“You were what?”

“Never mind. It’s nothing.”

—-

**Friday**

[6:32]  **You:** Hello?

[6:32]  **Unknown Number: ** Hello. Who is this?

[6:33]  **You:** Ouma Kokichi. I didn’t tell you my given name when we met, sorry.

[6:34]  **Unknown Number: ** Ah, right. Nice to formally meet you, Ouma-kun. This is Iidabashi Kiibo.

[6:34]  **You:** I know, just making sure I have the right number.

** Added new contact: Kiibo ♡**

Ouma’s heart seemed to beat a bit faster when he added that last symbol.

[6:35]  **Kiibo ♡:** You mentioned you were having a difficult time making friends.

[6:35] ** You:** Yeah, Saihara-kun’s really my only friend. 

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Saihara really was his only friend now. Of course, he’d had others before, but that was before he began ‘acting out’ with his pranks.

[6:36]  **Kiibo ♡:** I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, we won’t be going to the same school. I’m homeschooled.

[6:36]  **You:** That’s okay, I think I just need someone to talk to- and you seem pretty nice!

[6:37]  **Kiibo ♡: ** Ah- thank you. How long have you been in town?

_ Shit. _ Ouma bit his lip nervously, trying to come up with something that sounded reasonable.

[6:38]  **You:** About a month. You?

[6:39]  **Kiibo ♡: ** I was born here, however I moved away when I was 12 and returned when I was 14.

That was a shock to Ouma. He’d come back after only two years? Why hadn’t he tried to get back in contact with him? It couldn’t be that he just hadn’t missed Ouma…  _ It can’t be that. It isn’t possible. _

[6:40]  **You:** Oh, I see! How was coming back after that? Did you meet any old friends?

[6:46]  **You:** … Hello?

[6:50]  **Kiibo ♡:** Ah, sorry. My caretaker called me for something.

[6:50]  **Kiibo ♡: ** I didn’t really have any friends living here before

Now that made Ouma’s heart stop. ‘Didn’t have any friends’? What had he been then? There was no way Kiibo hadn’t seen Ouma as a friend-  _ No way, no way no way no way no way no way- _

[6:52]  **You:** I see

[6:52]  **You:** I have to go now, I’ll talk to you later.

Ouma tucked his phone away in a pocket. With a sniffle, he wiped his nose with his sleeve, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“Kokichi? Dinner is ready!!” His mother’s voice floated into his room as he stayed curled up on his bed.

“Ah, I’ll be right down-”

Ouma stayed there for a bit longer.

—-

“So? How did texting Iidabashi-kun go?” Saihara asked, not even starting with a ‘hello’ as Ouma walked out of his school gates.

“He doesn’t remember me.” The mauve-haired teen muttered bitterly, refusing to make eye contact with his friend. “Not at all.”

“There has to be a reason. If what you say is true, he would never just forget you like that.” Saihara pointed out, crossing his arms in thought. “... Maybe he was kidnapped and replaced with a fake!”

“Saihara-kun, now is  _ not _ the time for your  _ Danganronpa _ theories.” Ouma groaned, dragging his feet as the pair headed home. “I can’t understand how he’d just forget.”

“Maybe he’s not the one forgetting — perhaps you’re just remembering it wrong?” He offered, though the shorter teen shot him a glare.

“Gee, thanks for making me question my sanity.” Ouma’s remark was dripping with sarcasm. “I needed that.”

“I’m just trying to address every possibility!” He objected, looking rather hurt.

Ouma had a feeling he was treating this like another  _ Danganronpa _ mystery, or one of his novels.

“I know, it’s just- I can’t believe this is how our reunion went.”

“Perhaps you could talk it out with him? Go get coffee or something! Maybe you could even go to a festival!” Saihara’s eyes lit up with each suggestion he gave, and Ouma suddenly felt like he was now part of his friend’s newest ‘obsession’ or ‘ship’.

“While you’re creeping me out a little, those aren’t  _ awful _ ideas…” Ouma murmured, looking down in thought. “... Maybe.”

“You two remind me so much of Kurogane and Maeda from the 47th season!” Saihara fawned. “Maybe you two could do a couples’ cosplay of them?”

“Saihara-kun, in case you’re forgetting,  _ he doesn’t remember me _ .” Ouma snapped, feeling rather offended that his friend would compare his dilemma with fictional characters so nonchalantly.

“Then get him to remember you.”

“It’s not that easy, stupid.”

“Sure it is!”

“I don’t know how he forgot me in the first place.”

“Then find out, I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll… Ask him if we wants to go grab lunch on the weekend.” Ouma mumbled, prompting an excited clap from his companion.

“Great! Make sure to tell me all about it, okay? I need to go run some errands for my uncle, don’t forget to ask him. Good luck, Ouma-kun!” Saihara waved with a smile, before jogging off towards the store without waiting for a response.

When Saihara disappeared from view, Ouma just shook his head, continuing on his way home. How he’d managed to befriend a borderline fudanshi, he’d never know.

—-

Texting Kiibo had become somewhat of a ritual now. Ouma would message him before school, in class, during lunch, or any time where he was given more than a moment’s time to glance down at his phone and type a rushed sentence or two.

**Saturday**

[6:46]  **You:** How are you doing?

[9:24]  **You: ** Did you see anything interesting today?

[1:45]  **You:** How do you like being homeschooled?

**Sunday**

[10:56]  **You:** Do you like  _ Danganronpa? _

[10:58]  **You:** Oh really? Who was your favorite character?

[12:07]  **You:** Did you play the newest DR game?

[6:27]  **You:** I hope you’re eating well!

**Monday**

[4:16]  **You:** What do you think about pranks?

Ouma was staring at his phone, typing out another message to the albino when Saihara cleared his throat next to him.

“When are you going to ask him?” Saihara crossed his arms, giving a stern glare to his friend.

Ouma looked up from his seat on his bed, looking down at the carpet where the raven-haired boy was lying on his stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been texting Iidabashi-kun constantly; when are you going to finally ask him to meet you and talk?!” Saihara demanded, sitting up from his fanzine.

“I can’t just  _ ask _ him out of the blue!” Ouma yelped, throwing his phone down, his current text forgotten.

“If not now then when?” The other boy let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temple. “Honestly, I thought I was supposed to be the socially oblivious freak!”

“Saihara!” The mauve-haired boy was hurt, recoiling like he’d been burned. “What the hell?!”

“If you don’t talk to him, who  _ knows _ when you’re going to get another chance! For all you know, he could ghost you like he did before!”

“Shut up, I’m warning you-“

“He could leave like Kaede did.”

A silence fell over them suddenly, and Ouma was suddenly hyper-aware of everything in his room.

He didn’t need to ask what Saihara meant. He already knew.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“... I’ll ask him.”

—-

**Ouma Kokichi:** Hey, Iidabashi-kun, would you mind coming with me to get lunch on Saturday?

**You:** Is there some kind of special event going on?

**Ouma Kokichi: ** Ah, no, I just know a nice cafe just a few blocks away from the store we met at. It’s okay if you don’t want to come.

**You:** I thought you’d only moved here a month ago?

**Ouma Kokichi:** Oh, yeah. I just happened to find it a few days ago when I was running errands.

Kiibo had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had no clue why, but the idea of spending time with the other teen appealed to him greatly, despite the fact that they’d just met. The albino had grown fond of the other’s company in the past few days, and declining just felt wrong.

** You: ** I suppose I could. What time would you like to meet?

**Ouma Kokichi:** Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet in front of the convenience store.

** You:** Alright. I will see you then.

Kiibo set his phone down on the table, letting out a sigh.

This was risky. He wasn’t supposed to spend time with people, especially outside of the allotted time frame given to him by his strict schedule.

And yet… He found himself drawn to the other. There was a feeling in his chest he couldn’t deny, and yet he couldn’t place his finger on it.

“I’ll make it work.” He stated aloud, already running through his schedule in his head to figure out what things to move around in order to get a few hours free on Saturday.

“I’ll make it work.”

—-

Ouma shifted uneasily as he stood in front of the convenience store, suddenly hyper-aware of everyone around him; the cough of the passerby in the red coat, the laughs of the child across the street as they played with a wooden snake, the soft chatter of the women talking nearby.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“Ouma-kun?” A voice broke into his thoughts just as he began to worry that Kiibo wouldn’t show up.

“Ah! Kii — Iidabashi-kun! Thanks for meeting me here.” Ouma smiled, examining the other carefully.

Kiibo stood motionless to his left, his head tilted a bit as Ouma spoke.

As he had feared, there was still no recognition in his eyes.

“Are you ready to go?” Kiibo asked, fanning himself a bit with his shirt’s collar. “It’s a bit hot out.”

“Oh, right.” Ouma nodded, almost taking the albino’s hand to lead him, before stopping, instead marching off in the direction of the cafe.  _ He doesn’t remember you. That would be weird.  _ He scolded himself, still feeling rather disheartened about the situation.

“Is your hand doing better?” Kiibo asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Ah, yeah.” Ouma nodded, raising his left hand and flexing it a bit to prove it.

Eight days had passed since Kiibo had left him stunned — literally — for what had seemed like the 500th time since they’d met at age five.

Ouma decided not to mention the new bruise on his lower back from his classmate shoving him onto the ground after he’d propped a bucket of water up on the door and it had fallen on the wrong person. Nor did he bring up the second bruise on his upper left arm, gained after another classmate hurled a book at him when he got a bit too close, or the angry red mark on his right wrist from the slap of a metal ruler when he’d made a snarky remark, or… or…

“So, what is this cafe you spoke of?”

Ouma realized the other had been speaking the entire time, scrambling to get his thoughts together for long enough to speak coherently.

“It’s a place I used to visit a lot whe- I-I mean it was a place my mother visited a lot! B-Back when she first lived here.” Ouma stammered, trying to recover quickly from his blunder.

Kiibo raised a brow, though he simply nodded. “I see.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Ouma couldn’t help but feel guilty about lying to the person he’d once considered his best friend, awkwardly looking at the ground, occasionally finding himself staring at Kiibo’s hand.

That hand; the hand with soft, milky-white skin and the dancing fingertips that would send butterflies throughout his stomach with just a tickle — it was just a faint memory now.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“Is that it?” Once again, Kiibo’s voice brought him out of his daze, and the shorter of the two looked up, spotting a familiar building that made his heart ache in ways that it hadn’t before.

“Yeah. That’s the one.”

The door squeaked and protested when Kiibo pushed it, a small bell ringing out with a pleasant chime.

An employee was standing behind the counter, wiping plates and glasses down before calling out to the two.

“Welcome, please make yourself at ho — Ouma-kun?”

“Hello, Toujou-san.” Ouma bowed a bit, waving with a sheepish grin.

“It is nice to see you again, Ouma-kun. Is your mother doing well?” The girl asked, setting down the plate she had been working on for a moment.

“She is, she keeps telling me about how much she misses the carrot cake here.” The mauve-haired teen chuckled a bit. “Could I get one to take to her today?”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can get for you today? I have not seen you for a few months now. I’m glad you stopped by.”

Ouma was about to respond before he froze, shooting a quick glance at Kiibo.  _ Shit, I forgot that Toujou would recognize me! _ Despite his worst fears, however, Kiibo seemed to remain invested in the pastries in the display, looking them over thoughtfully.

“Could… Could we get some of the chocolate covered strawberries and raspberries?” Ouma mumbled, realizing after the fact that he was barely audible.

By some miracle, Toujou understood him, nodding as she pulled out the requested items. “Is that all?”

“Could I get some coffee cake?” Kiibo asked, tilting his hat upwards a bit.

The girl quickly cut a slice from the display, place all the treats on the counter, a smile on her face. “I remember you used to tell me about how much you loved these.” Toujou sighed wistfully, setting the chocolate covered berries aside. “Time really has flown.”

“It has.” Ouma’s voice was just a whisper, but he shook his head, reaching for his pocket to grab his wallet.

“It’s alright, Ouma-kun. I’ll take care of it.” Kiibo interrupted, pulling out his own wallet and producing a few neatly folded bills.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that; I’m the one who asked you to come out, after all.” Ouma tried to hand Toujou the money; however, Kiibo blocked him with an arm, facing him with what he could’ve sworn was a slight smile.

“Really, it’s okay. Consider this an apology for knocking you over last week.”

Thoroughly defeated, Ouma murmured a quick ‘thank you’, waiting for his companion to pay, before taking the plate of fruits and the boxed carrot cake, heading over to a table by the window, with Kiibo in tow.

They sat down, the chairs making hushed squeaks as they were pushed back from the table.

An awkward silence fell over them as Ouma shifted in his seat, trying to think of what to say to the other.  _ ‘I’m your childhood best friend, surprise!’ Won’t exactly work. _ He thought miserably.

Ouma took a raspberry and popped it in his mouth, closing his eyes for a moment, just to savor the taste; just to forget about what was wrong and to pretend everything was fine again. Kiibo cut a small piece off of the coffee cake, bringing it to his mouth.

The mauve-haired boy was only able to steal glances every few seconds, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable; but, not being able to help himself.

_ He was almost able to remember the last time that they had been here together in perfect detail. Returning home from school, he’d gotten the chocolate covered strawberries, while Kiibo had gotten a king-sized chocolate bar. They’d failed to account for the hot summer heat, and by the time the two reached the intersection where they finally parted ways, both had chocolate all over their fingers, playfully shoving them in each other’s faces. All their troubles had gone in that one moment; it had been blissful. Ouma had pointed out a smear of chocolate that remained on the corner of his friend’s lip, noting that the sunset cast a warm shadow on the right side of his face. _

_ He’d leaned in a bit closer, intending to wipe the chocolate away with a thumb, feeling the red tint that seemed to be creeping up on his face, and seeing it reflected on Kiibo’s, too. Closing in, just a few more inches, until there had been next to no space between them… _

The albino finally spoke the words that Ouma had been dreading:

“Why did you lie?”

—-

_ “Kokichi, where are we going?” Kiibo exclaimed loudly, struggling to keep up with the other boy as he ran up the grassy hill. _

_ It was a breezy autumn day. Clouds speckled the sky here and there, the fluffy tails predicting rain in the near future. _

_ “Up to the tree on the hill, duh!” The mauve-haired boy looked back to his friend with a giant grin, seemingly taking up all the room on his face. “It’s a perfect spot for cloud-watching! My mom told me so!” He declared proudly, with the demeanor fitting of an eleven-year old. “It’s got shade, and a tire swing! How cool is that?” _

_ “Eh? If that’s all you need for a good cloud-watching spot, my backyard would’ve been more convenient…” Kiibo huffed, though he decided to go along with his friend’s whims. _

_ “You don’t get it! There’s a huge building blocking out half of the sky next to your house! It’s no good!” Kokichi complained, reaching the top of the hill much faster than his friend, standing up straight with his hand held above his eyes. “Woooooah! You can see the mountains!” He exclaimed. “Hurry up and get over here!” _

_ Kiibo was now thoroughly exhausted; running from his house to Kokichi’s, and then immediately trekking up the hill had really done a number on him. “I hope this is worth it, Kokichi!” _

_ “It is, I promise, I promise!” His friend offered a hand to him, which the albino took gingerly, letting the boy drag him towards the foot of the tree, plopping himself down with his feet planted on both sides of a protruding root. “Look! Isn’t the town pretty?” _

_ Kiibo took a few moments to take in the scene Ouma was so excited about. _

_ Above them was a dull orange sky. Wispy white clouds hanging from the heavens like ribbons. The feeling of crisp autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet as he sat down. The smell of his friend’s grape scented shampoo to his right. _

_ _ Wait, what?

_ “You’re right. It’s pretty.” Kiibo murmured, though his attention was no longer focused on the scenery ahead of them. _

_ “I told you so!” Kokichi had a goofy smile on his face, before a comfortable silence fell between the two. _

Tick. Tock.

_ “Hey, Kiibo?” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “You’ll never ever forget me for the rest of your life, yeah?” _

_ “Who could forget you? I think you’re too endearing.” _

_ “Big words! I don’t know what you’re saying,” the dark-haired boy stuck his tongue out, “I’ll just take it as a compliment.” _

_ “It was a compliment, anyway.” _

_ “I’m gonna hold you to that promise! If you ever forget me, I’ll curse you!” _

_ “I’ll take your word for it.” _

—-

_ Why did  _ you _ lie, Kiibo? _ Everything seemed to catch up with Ouma at once, and he felt tears stinging the back of his eyelids.

“I… I lied to get you to talk to me.” His voice was just a whisper, clenching his fists in his lap with a sigh. “When I first saw you, I-I was so happy.”

“But why? I’m just a stranger. You had Saihara-kun with you.” Kiibo pointed out, knitting his brows together as he tried to piece Ouma’s thought process into a whole.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me… You probably won’t, I don’t have a lot to back it up, anyway.” He was absolutely miserable, wiping his eyes with his sleeve in an attempt to push the tears back. “I don’t even know if I can believe it anymore. Everything’s so different, and—and I don’t know if I can trust my own memory now.”

“What is it?” The albino prompted.

“You and I used to be best friends. Before you moved away, that is. One day you stopped responding to my emails, and I just… I never found out why. But then I saw you again.” Ouma let out a humorless chuckle as he said the last part. “I couldn’t believe it. But you didn’t recognize me.”

“Ouma-kun, I…”

“Does ‘Kokichi’ sound familiar to you at all?” The boy surprised himself when his voice cracked, refusing to make eye contact with his companion across from him. “Do you remember the summer? The chocolate? What about the tire swing in the autumn?”

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“... I don’t.”

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

“Ouma-kun…?”

“Please, just stop.”

The dark-haired boy was quiet now, pushing his plate of chocolate-covered fruits to the side, standing up from the creaky chair. “I should get going. I don’t want the carrot cake to get soggy.”

“Ouma-kun, hold on — let’s talk about thi-”

“What more is there for me to say?!” Ouma looked up at his companion fiercely, struggling to hold more tears back as he felt one roll down his left cheek. “I already told you. I can’t trust my memory anymore. Maybe it’s all just my imagination. I’m sorry to have brought you all this way.”

“Ouma-kun, listen to me!” Kiibo’s voice was raised, and Ouma almost flinched when he stood up and banged his fists on the table. “I-I may not remember… Frankly, I don’t remember a lot about my life before I moved back here — but I… I do want to know you. You don’t seem crazy or delusional to me. If this is something you truly have memories of, I want to remember it, too.”

Ouma opened his mouth to respond, before glancing around the cafe, realizing that everyone’s attention was on them. Toujou stared at them with a worried expression on her face, glancing to the dark-haired boy for an answer.

He mouthed ‘sorry’, before looking down at his feet. “... We should probably take this outside.”

Kiibo didn’t seem to notice the patrons all watching them until Ouma had said something, glancing back and forth before pulling his hat down to avoid eye contact. “Of course.”

The two exited the cafe, with Kiibo following Ouma, nodding an apology to Toujou as they walked by.

Cars seemed to blur together for Ouma as they stepped out of the building, a moment of awkward silence falling over them.

“... You mentioned… The summer, and a tire swing…?” Kiibo finally spoke up, his eyes occasionally drifting towards Ouma’s, though whenever they’d meet he would look away again.

“Yeah. We… We used to spend a lot of time together. Our parents could never pull us apart.” The mauve-haired teen let out a laugh, though as soon as it left him he knew it was empty.

“I see. I… I don’t remember having a friend like that.” Kiibo admitted, frowning as he spoke. “... It sounds nice.”

“It was.” Ouma’s voice broke, and he dabbed at his eyes uselessly with his palm. “You were the only person I ever felt truly comfortable with.”

“If you don’t mind — I mean, I know this won’t be the same for you — but would you consider… Becoming my friend again?”

_ Tick. Tock. _

“Of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ouma and kiibo seem to be making headway in their friendship, much to the former’s excitement.  
however, saihara makes an interesting discovery...

A month had passed since that day in the cafe.

Ouma and Kiibo had slowly started spending more time together, bonding over video games, tv shows, and the stories that the shorter boy told about their experiences as children.

Of course, Kiibo still didn’t remember any of it, but that was fine, at least in Ouma’s eyes.

He was slowly becoming warmer. Slowly opening up more. He allowed Ouma to call him by his given name, because he knew it made him more comfortable. Hell, he’d even spent time with Saihara and smiled on occasion.

He liked this progress.

“I did what now?” Kiibo sounded incredulous, and at that moment, Ouma remembered he had been telling a story.

“Oh, yeah! You took your father’s glasses and hid them for an entire day! It was the only time you ever played a prank.” Ouma snickered, grinning at the other.

“I can’t even imagine touching his glasses, much less hiding them…” Kiibo murmured, looking down in deep thought.

“We did all sorts of things when we were kids- We would play games and run around in the forest behind my house.” Ouma smiled fondly at the memory, glancing over at his companion.

“I wish I remembered that…” He sighed, looking a bit forlorn.

The shorter boy thought for a second, before snapping his fingers. “You could — Wanna go right now?”

“What?” Kiibo seemed shocked by the suggestion, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. _ Knowing him, he probably hasn’t. _ Ouma thought.

“The forest is still around, dummy! We could take a walk.” He explained. “Oh, we always played around an old wooden bench in the middle of it all! We could see if that’s still there!”

“Ah… I don’t know… The professor wants me home in less than an hour.” Kiibo pulled his hat down, seemingly conflicted.

“Come on, live a little! You have such a busy schedule, it’s only fair that you get to have some fun outside!” Ouma complained, taking the other’s hand in his, pulling him along without leaving room for him to object. “Think of it this way, maybe it’ll even help you get some of your memories back!”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“We’ll have you home before sunset, anyway! There’s no way he can get mad.”

—-

The forest behind Ouma’s house was small but thick; trees stood closely together as if huddling in a crowd, and birdsong filled the air as light seeped in through any opening it could find in the dense leaves.

Ouma and Kiibo approached the forest slowly, mostly for Kiibo’s sake than anything else.

He looked at the forest in awe, mouth slightly agape.

“Does this bring back any memories?” Ouma prompted, clasping his hands behind his back, glancing over at the other.

Not surprisingly, Kiibo shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I feel like I’d remember something like this, though…”

“Have you asked your dad again?”

“No. Whenever I bring up the subject of living here before, he dodges the question or sends me to do something.”

“Strange…” Ouma tilted his head in confusion, puzzled by his father’s actions, before shrugging it off. “Well, no use thinking about it now — Let’s go in!”

Without another word, the dark-haired boy marched in with his friend in tow.

“It’s very pretty here…” Kiibo murmured, looking around at the trees. Ouma occasionally caught sight of a bird here and there, letting a smile show on his face as he led the other.

The past month had been the most carefree he’d felt in years. The bullying at school still continued; however, it became more bearable, knowing that he’d be able to see his friend after school. _ Danganronpa _ continued to hype up their new season, one that Saihara and Ouma had no small amount of excitement for. Ouma’s mother had been thrilled to hear about Kiibo’s return, though the two still hadn’t said anything to her about his memories.

“You said there was a bench?” Kiibo broke into his thoughts once again, and Ouma nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! I think it was over by a clearing…” He stopped for a moment, looking around and spotting a somewhat worn path off of the main trail. “Over here!”

The dark-haired boy released his friend’s hand to run on the path, stepping over fallen trees and jumping over dips in the ground.

“Ouma-kun, wait!” He heard Kiibo call out from behind him, but he snickered, continuing at his own pace.

“You better hurry, Kiibo!” He laughed, the distance between them only growing as he barreled through the trees.

It was only a minute more before he came to the clearing he’d remembered, taking a deep breath, before searching for the bench.

Ouma found it without much difficulty, smiling at the sight of the old wooden fixture. There had been so many times when they’d stood on the creaky platform and pretended it was a boat, or covered it in leaves and huddled underneath it as an imaginary storm raged above them...

Then his heart stopped when he remembered the last memory that he had with Kiibo here.

_ “Ouma, please…” Piercing blue eyes swam in front of him as tears threatened to spill. _

_ “Go away, idiot! I hate you!” The warmth of his own arms as he pulled his legs up into a fetal position. _

_ “Don’t make me leave like this, Ouma!” _

_ “Then don’t leave! I’ll stay right here until your dad changes his mind!” _

_ “You know I wouldn’t leave if I had a choice…” _

_ “Stay, then! We could just not go back today, we’ll live out here and build a _ real _ shelter, we can-” _

_ “Ouma.” Kiibo frowned, scooting back a bit and sitting up onto his ankles. “I don’t want to leave you like this. You mean too much to me.” _

_ “... Do you promise you’ll remember me and come back, then?” _

_ “Wha-” _

_ “Promise me! You have to promise or I’ll never forgive you.” He could remember glaring at his best friend, sniffling as he waited for his response. _

_ “... I promise, Ouma. I’d never leave you alone like that.” _

_ Hesitantly, the dark-haired boy nodded, crawling out from his space under the bench. He shuffled closer to Kiibo, slowly closing the space, until he was leaning on his shoulder, still sniffling quietly as he avoided eye contact. _

_ “It’s a promise, then.” _

His memories were cut short, however. “Ouma-kun? Where are you?”

“I-I’m over here!” He called, turning away from the bench momentarily. “Keep going straight, you’ll get here eventually!”

There was the rustling of brush, and the muted sound of footsteps as Kiibo drew closer, eventually breaking into the clearing, looking around curiously. “Ah- It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

“Does this make you remember anything?” Ouma was hopeful, desperately wanting his friend to recall something, _ anything _from their time together.

Once again, Kiibo shook his head. “No, but… I feel like I should. It feels… familiar.” He concluded, looking over the bench, some semblance of fondness in his eyes.

“Do you… Do you want to go to the other places we visited as kids?” Ouma asked hesitantly, unsure if the other would be opposed to the idea.

“I would love to, but… I need to go home now.” Kiibo frowned, taking his hat off to run his hand through his hair. “He’ll be upset with me if I’m any later than I already am. Sorry, Ouma-kun.” 

“Oh… Okay.” The mauve-haired boy could feel his heart drop when Kiibo said that, however, he turned away from the bench regardless, smiling widely. “Let’s get you home before your dad even starts missing you, then!”

—-

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry. I was keeping a friend company and I lost track of time.”

“You lost track of time?” The older man repeated. “_ You _ do not have the liberty of losing track of time.” He stated, a stern tone in his voice. “What if you had let your daily algebra lessons skip your mind, too? Or any of your other tasks, for that matter.”

“But father, _ please _-” Kiibo tried to protest, only to be cut off again.

“One of my assistants told me that she saw you spending time with a… suspicious individual. I do not want you to see him anymore, he could be dangerous.” His father pushed, ushering him upstairs towards his room.

“Wait, no, that’s not-”

“You’ve been talking back too much.” The elder of the two snapped, nearly shoving the teen in his room. “You are not to see him again, is that clear? You’re getting distracted. He’s a bad influence-”

“Why won’t you just let me explain?!” Kiibo interrupted, stumbling backwards as he practically fell into his room. “Ouma-kun is _ not _ a negative influence. He was someone I knew before we moved! He was my _ friend _!” He stated fiercely, clenching his fists. “He’s still my friend! We always have been, and always shall be.” He growled, feeling a rush go up his spine. He’d seldom doubted his father, never mind talked back to him in such a manner. It was almost… liberating.

“Ouma-kun?” Kiibo’s father seemed to freeze when he said that, before slumping forward in defeat, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Stay in your room and don’t come out.” He growled, before slamming the door.

Kiibo was on his feet at the door within seconds, pounding on it as he struggled with the knob.

If he had listened a bit harder he may have heard the stifled crying that came from the other side.

—-

Ouma hummed happily as he worked to complete his schoolwork, periodically glancing up at the clock to see how much time had passed.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

With a start, he realized that school would be getting out in two minutes.

Packing up his supplies, he stood up when the bell sounded, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder, before walking out of the classroom, headed towards the school gate.

“Ouma-kun! Hey!” The familiar voice of Saihara greeted the shorter boy as he stepped out of school, and he paused as his raven-haired friend ran up to him. “How was school?”

“Better than usual, I got a lot of work done.” Ouma nodded, smiling a bit. “How was your day?”

“Teachers were as boring as ever.” Saihara rolled his eyes. “Oh, but I did see something interesting on the way here! There was a limo parked outside the convenience store earlier. Some girl got in. Maybe she’s a celebrity? I wonder what she was doing here.” He frowned a bit, seemingly lost in thought

“A limo, huh?” Ouma tilted his head curiously. “Maybe. I wouldn’t get my hopes up, though. Probably just a rich old fart.” He shrugged, before he started walking away from the gate. “Are you running errands for your uncle again today?”

“Yeah- Our refrigerator malfunctioned yesterday, all our food went bad.” He grimaced and scrunched up his nose, as if remembering an unpleasant scent. “So I have to go pick up some food for tonight. Say hello to Iidabashi-kun for me, will you?” Saihara smiled, before waving and heading in the opposite direction. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Saihara-kun!” Ouma called, adjusting his bag’s strap again, before running off in the direction of Kiibo’s house.

The albino was waiting outside when Ouma arrived, sitting down with a notebook in hand.

“Kiibo! Hi!” Ouma waved as he approached, jogging up to stand in front of his friend. “How are you?”

“I’m doing alright, thank you for asking.” Kiibo nodded, standing from where he had been seated.

“What did you want to do today? We could go back to my house and play games.” He suggested, watching his friend’s expression.

Kiibo seemed hesitant.

“Ah… I’m not sure if I can. The professor wants me to stay home today and catch up on schoolwork.” He mumbled, tucking his notebook under his arm. “I’m sorry, Ouma-kun. I think I must cancel for today. I meant to tell you earlier, but… my phone has also been confiscated.”

“What? He took your phone?” Ouma’s head shot up at that, more than a bit stunned to hear that. “Why would he do that? Did you get in trouble?” He asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Not… Not particularly. He’s just in a bad mood, is all. I happened to rub him the wrong way.” He explained. “I’ll have it back soon, not to worry.”

“Are you sure?” Despite how hard he tried, Ouma couldn’t pick out any real comfort from those words. It felt like empty reassurance.

“I’m positive. I will contact you as soon as I get it back.” Kiibo promised, before a voice could be heard from inside, calling his name. “I apologize again, Ouma-kun. We can spend time together another day.”

The mauve-haired boy had no choice but to nod with a smile, calling goodbye as his friend walked back into his house.

—-

A few days had passed since the professor had banned Kiibo from going outside and taken his phone.

At first, it had been tolerable. The albino had spent his time reading, taking notes in the margins occasionally and speculating about mysteries. However, after two days dragged on, he found himself thinking more and more about his mauve-haired friend.

To put it bluntly, he _ missed _ Ouma-kun.

He missed him so much sometimes that his chest began to hurt. Sometimes he even found himself brushing the corner of his mouth with a hand, somehow recalling Ouma-kun’s touch when he could never remember it _ being there _.

His inability to contact his only friend had weighed down on him. Seconds seemed to drag on like hours, and his focus was all but gone.

Something was wrong with him. Gravely wrong.

There had to be.

And so, Kiibo began pouring his time into researching the symptoms he was experiencing. He wouldn’t tell the professor; after their argument the other day, there was no way he would understand.

His searches through the numerous medical books in the household’s possession turned up all kinds of results. Heartburn, fractured ribs, strokes… None of which matched his situation.

Until he found one that did.

_ Heartache. _

—-

Ouma sat alone in his dark room, texting Saihara occasionally and spending his time on the internet, pulling up articles on amnesia every so often.

**Saturday**

[9:47] **Saihara:** Still nothing from Iidabashi-kun?

[9:48] **You:** No… I guess he still hasn’t gotten his phone back.

[9:48] **Saihara: **Why would his dad take it away in the first place? That’s so dumb.

The tap of fingers could be heard as he typed out his response, before he heard a faint tapping.

Ouma paused for a moment, waiting to hear the noise again. When it didn’t resume, he continued typing.

[9:49] **You:** I think he might’ve gotten in trouble because of me. I convinced him to stay out late the other day.

[9:49] **Saihara:** That’s not _ your _ fault! You’re just getting him to live a little.

[9:49] **You:** Either way, he got in trouble.

[9:49] **Saihara: **That’s so unfair.

The boy almost jumped out of his skin when the light scratching sound resumed, only getting louder and louder.

[9:50] **You:** Hold on there’s something outside

Ouma got up from his bed in fear, pressing himself against his wall. He slowly inched his way towards the window, which seemed to be the source of the scratching, which had now turned into persistent knocking.

He held his breath, before glancing out of the window, his eyes going wide.

“Kiibo?! What are you doing here?!” He hissed, immediately opening the window,

“I wanted to see you.” The albino said it so softly that Ouma almost didn’t catch it. “I’ve… missed you.”

The mauve-haired boy could immediately feel his face heating up, and he was thankful for the cover the night gave him. “Get inside, come on-“ He insisted, opening the window all the way before offering his friend a hand.

Kiibo nodded gratefully, taking his hand and hoisting himself through the window. It was times like these that Ouma was glad their apartment was on the first floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” He shook his head, feeling bewildered. “Does your dad know you snuck out of the house?”

“No. He’s asleep now, I made sure of it.” Kiibo insisted. “Even if he wasn't, I still would’ve come.”

“But why? If he catches you, you’re going to get into so much trouble- Not to mention my mother- She loves you, but if she catches you in here in the middle of the night she’s going to freak out!” Ouma shot a glance towards the door as he said that, unsure whether or not she was asleep.

“I had to come. Being apart from you has been driving me insane. I haven’t been able to focus.” Kiibo lamented, leaning against the wall next to the window. “I miss you. You’re my best friend, Ouma-kun.”

“Where is- Where is this coming from?” He blinked, thoroughly confused. It wasn’t like Kiibo to be affectionate, even before he’d moved. “It wasn’t worth it to come out here, you have to go back before he fin-”

“I think it was worth it.” Kiibo’s statement was so straightforward, as if he had just gone on a stroll, rather than snuck out at night.

“What do you mean?”

“Even if I get in trouble, it’s good seeing you again.” Kiibo murmured, his gaze directed at the floor. “I’ve been stuck at home these past few days. The professor’s been giving me a lot of work to do, and there’s no one I can really talk to at home. It’s lonely.”

Ouma was silent for a few moments, his mouth turned to a frown.

“Kiibo, are you okay?” He asked. “You seem… so much sadder.”

To his surprise (and horror,) the albino nodded.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing I’m not prepared to deal with, I didn’t really have friends before you and Saihara-kun, after all.” He shrugged. Ouma searched his face for any hint of deception or sadness, and yet he found none. “Really, it’s okay, Ouma-kun. I just wanted to see you today. That’s all.”

The mauve-haired boy hesitated.

_ Is it really okay? He seems like he’s being honest, but… His words don’t sound right at all. _

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. _

“Do you… want to do something?” He finally broke the silence, gesturing to his room. “We can’t leave my room since my mom might be awake, but I still have some games in here.”

For a moment, he thought Kiibo was going to decline, judging from how he pursed his lips together and glanced back at the window. However, to his surprise, his friend nodded and smiled.

“I’d like that.”

—-

**Saturday:**

[9:47] **You:** Still nothing from Iidabashi-kun?

[9:48] **OWOuma:** No… I guess he still hasn’t gotten his phone back.

[9:48] **You: **Why would his dad take it away in the first place? That’s so dumb

[9:49] **OWOuma:** I think he might’ve gotten in trouble because of me. I convinced him to stay out late the other day.

[9:49] **You:** That’s not _ your _ fault! You’re just getting him to live a little.

[9:49] **OWOuma:** Either way, he got in trouble.

[9:49] **You: **That’s so unfair.

Saihara leaned back in his desk chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. He’d already tried to go to the Iidabashi household once himself, only to get turned away by a strange person in a suit, wearing a small pin that he hadn’t been able to get a good look at.

His phone buzzed once again, breaking into his thoughts.

He leaned over to grab it, his eyes going over the screen before he froze.

[9:50] **OWOuma:** Hold on there’s something outside

“Something outside…?” Saihara repeated, before immediately unlocking his phone, typing back to him.

[9:50] **You:** What do you mean something outside?

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock… _

A minute passed.

No response.

[9:51] **You:** Ouma what do you mean something outside

[9:51] **You: **Ouma if you don’t answer in the next five minutes I’m coming over

Saihara ran a hand through his hair, pushing himself away from his desk with a kick and getting up from his chair.

“Fuck, fuck, _ fuck. _” He hissed, pacing around his room.

Something was outside of Ouma’s house.

He didn’t know what, but it was something and Ouma wasn’t responding.

And he wasn’t about to lose the last friend he had left.

Momota, Harukawa, Amami, and…

… Akamatsu.

They’d all moved away suddenly.

They hadn’t said a word.

Any attempt to talk with them or their families always led to dead ends.

Ouma always told him it was just a coincidence, but Saihara knew better.

His friends had been abducted.

And now the same thing was happening to Ouma.

Before the five minutes had passed, he shook his head impatiently, grabbing his phone and a bag, storming out of his room.

“Shuichi? Where are you going so late?” His uncle could be heard from the other room as he went through the hall.

“Something’s happening to my friend, call the police if I don’t text you in ten minutes!”

“What?! Shuichi, what the hell is going o-” His uncle’s voice was cut off as he slammed the front door shut behind him, not even bothering to lock it as he sprinted in the direction of Ouma’s house.

_ Please be safe, please be safe- _Saihara kept running as fast as he could, almost stumbling several times as he flew over the pavement with his phone in hand, shaking as he kept waiting for that message, for something that would tell him that his last friend was okay…

Only to be stopped by a black limo that he hadn’t noticed tailing him.

“Excuse me, young man.”

“I’m in a hurry, sorry-”

The man in the suit extended an arm to block him. “Your friend is fine. We’d like to talk with you, Saihara-kun.”

The boy skidded to a halt before running into his arm, looking over at the man suspiciously. “Who are you?”

“My apologies. I work for Team Danganronpa. You’ve been selected to participate in the 53rd killing game with your friends. Please join us in the limo, and we can finalize everything.” He explained.

For a moment Saihara was stunned.

_ Join the 53rd killing game? _

Then the man’s other words hit him.

With your friends.

_ With your friends. _

“The friends who moved away?” He croaked.

“The same ones. Amami-san, Momota-san, Harukawa-san, and Akamatsu-san. They’re waiting for you.”

_ No they’re not. _

“... Why didn’t they tell me?”

“They were so excited about being chosen, and there’s been a lot of paperwork to fill out. They haven’t had the time.”

“Akamatsu would _ never _ forget to tell me about something like that.” Saihara narrowed his eyes, before taking a step back. “What did you _ do _ to them?!” He spat, taking another step away from the man and the limo.

The man’s mouth turned down in a grimace. “It seems you’re too smart for your own good, Saihara-san. You really will be a good Ultimate Detective.”

“I won’t participate in your game! You abducted my friends! You’re criminals!” His voice turned into hysterical laughter. “This whole time, I’ve been supporting you! I’ll let the world know what you’re really like! What you’ve done to your contestants!”

“We can’t have that, Saihara.” His voice was a deep rumble now.

The boy’s phone fell to the ground with a _ clack _ as he screamed. Shouts of “Ouma-kun! Ouma! **Ouma!**” could be heard, fading as the limo sped off into the night, leaving the cracked phone, broken on the pavement.


End file.
